Once, twice, thrice she paced across the floor of the office and stood for a moment striving to peer through the dirty window-glass into the blackness without, faintly splotched with gleams of yellow light.

Finally, she flung back the door and ventured forth upon the shadowed porch, standing behind the low railing, where those passing below were little likely to notice her presence.

Her head throbbed and ached, and she loosened her heavy hair, pressing her palms to the temples.

The boy returned at last hurriedly, bare-headed, but unaccompanied, and she met him at the top of the steps, realizing, even before he spoke, that those she sought had not been found.
"Not there?
Neither there ?" "No, Miss." The clerk was breathing hard from his run, but his tone was sympathetic.

"Darned if I did n't hustle that outfit from pit to boxes, but nobody there seemed to sabe this yere Brown.